


Falling

by Res



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: D/s undertones, Dom!Charlie, F/M, Fear of Falling, Mild BDSM, fear as sex aid, sub!Tonks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-09-09
Updated: 2006-09-09
Packaged: 2017-10-20 22:42:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/217886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Res/pseuds/Res
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Do you trust me, Tonks?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Falling

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thegiantkiller (theleaveswant)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/theleaveswant/gifts).



> Done as a gift fic for http://hp-kinkathon.livejournal.com, from prompts provided by the recipient. Originally posted anonymously at http://hp-kinkathon.livejournal.com/10930.html

It happened in a blink, the fall that took her courage.

One moment, she was flying along, above the clouds, thoroughly enjoying the feeling of the wind through her hair -- and the next.... The next, her broom had completely failed on her and she was falling. Every spell set on the thing seemed to simply vanish, all at the same moment and the magical flying device had become nothing more than a bundle of sticks bound together, and not particularly well bound together at that, once the spells were gone.

Still hundreds of feet in the air. Later, they couldn’t explain how she’d survived the fall -- called it a miracle. Water, you know, is as hard as stone, when struck from a distance of more than a hundred feet -- and the human body is much softer, all in all, than concrete. Even the body of a witch.

She broke both legs, one arm, several ribs, and her jaw. She considered herself extraordinarily lucky not to have broken her back -- but luck itself had taken a hand at the last moment and dropped her tail first, instead of face first, into the ocean, the water folding her up like a ragdoll. She’d also broken a tailbone for it, and had dislocated the other arm in two places -- but all things considered, she had decided later, that was much better than being dead.

That was almost a year ago.

She still couldn’t stand to be more than her own height off of the ground, even now -- not on a broom, not metamorphed as a bird, not levitating...not even going up in a lift and looking out the window. Sometimes, just _knowing_ she was that far off the ground -- even if she was inside a building, and couldn’t see out a window or anything -- was enough to trigger a panic attack or a flashback.

It was worse than feeling useless, this horrible fear. It came on her unexpectedly, at the worst of times -- walking down the street and happening to glance down a steep set of stairs; chasing after a suspect who leaps over a wall and down an embankment in the park; even something as simple as attending a Quidditch game became an experience mined with panic attacks and horrible embarrassment.

It was all dreadfully depressing.

She was moping at her desk in the DMLE -- where she’d been relegated once more, after her latest humiliation when the unit was doing a raid and the Dark Wizards they had been after had taken to broomsticks to escape -- when suddenly a broad, tanned and incredibly freckled hand moved in front of her eyes, gently grasped her chin and turned her head to see an equally freckled and tanned face, topped with bright coppery hair. Concerned hazel eyes squinted at her as a deep voice rumbled, “You want to talk about it?”

Delight filled her voice and face as she launched herself to her feet and into his arms. _“Charlie!”_

Charlie Weasley laughed, a deep rumbling chuckle rolling up out of his chest as he caught her, rocking back to sit on the edge of her desk, cradling her against his broad chest. “Hey, Tonks.” He grinned, tapping her nose playfully with one finger. “That’s more like the lady I know and love. How’s it going?” He looked around the nearly empty office. “Where is everyone?”

Her face fell. “On a raid.” She shrugged, trying to force a smile. “But I’m off in five...,” her voice trailed off hopefully.

“Yeah?” He grinned at her again, hazel eyes brightening with cheer. “Got plans?” Gently, he eased her back onto her feet, letting one hand linger with friendly affection on her bum.

“Actually,” she sighed, regretfully, “I do.” She grinned to see his face fall. Her voice bubbled with laughter as she continued, “Dinner with a certain handsome redhead I haven’t seen in nearly two years!”

Charlie brightened immediately. “Minx.” He pinched her sharply on the butt, grinning at the outraged squawk the action produced, then cheerfully blocking the swat she aimed at him, laughing.

A few hours later, over coffee and afters, he asked again. “You want to talk about it?” His tone was serious, attitude light, letting her know it was her choice and he’d drop it if she asked. His eyes watched her, carefully, glowing green and gold in the candlelight, as he idly toyed with his wineglass, swirling the rich red wine around and around in the clear bowl. When she stayed silent, he ventured, a bit hesitantly, “...can I help?”

She sighed, and her hair faded from its usual bright pink to a pale, washed out coral, streaked oddly with mousy brown and bits of white. He waited, patiently, growing more concerned as the pink faded out, until, finally, she began to speak. She told him about the fall, and about the recovery. She told him about the fear and about the flashbacks and about the panic attacks. She told him about being relegated to her desk, and about the embarrassment of trying (and failing) to do her job, about how no one wanted to work with her any more for fear that she’d freeze on them, and about her total lack of ability to deal with this new phobia. She’d never been afraid, before, not like this -- not the kind of fear that clutched at the throat and stole your breath, the kind of fear that locked every joint up and flooded ice through your veins, covering you in a thick, greasy sweat.

And he listened. She couldn’t believe how much better it made her feel, just to _talk_ about it, and actually have someone _listen_ to her, without judging, without interrupting -- just _listen._ When she finished, she looked at him and he smiled at her, reaching out and ruffling the now-pink-again hair gently. “...Sounds like it’s been pretty rough.”

“Yeah,” she sighed, leaning into the touch slightly. Looking up, her eyes met his and he grinned as they shifted to match the exact same shade of hazel he knew his own to be. “God, I’m glad to see you, Charlie.”

Slowly, his fingers tightened in her hair until he had a secure fistful. Gently, but firmly, he began to tug, pulling until she gasped. His eyes darkened at the sound, shifting and dilating until they seemed like pools of molten gold, radiating heat. “Yeah?” he asked, his voice low, rough, almost growling, the sudden heat of it flooding into her and making her stomach twist with anticipation.

“Yeah,” she whispered back softly. She kept her eyes on his for a long moment, challenging, until his grip tightened again. She closed her eyes then, with a soft, nearly inaudible cry of pain, her body twisting out of her chair to kneel on the floor next to him, submissive in his grasp.

He laughed again, softly, and pulled her face up to his, claiming her lips for a quick kiss. “Minx.”

She grinned against his mouth, eyes still closed.

He rose, pulling her to her feet, his fingers still firmly clenched in her hair. Pulling out a few coins, he tossed them to the table to pay for their meal, then, with a twist and a push, bent her over and pulled her from the restaurant, ignoring the startled stares of the other patrons. Once outside, he paused, thinking. After a moment, he pulled her upright again, looking into her face. Her eyes were still closed, a slight smile curving her mouth. He could see a faint flush of arousal starting to colour her skin -- it made him smile -- and the flutter of her heartbeat at the side of that long, delicate throat.

Slowly, he wrapped his fingers around that tender column, tightening them until he could _feel_ that flutter against his palm, feeling the trip of his own heart pick up as it beat faster against his skin. Her breath stuttered slightly, then sped up; and still she stayed passive under his touch. He smiled.

“Tonks?”

Her breath caught, then exhaled slowly. Softly, she answered, eyes still closed, “Yeah, Charlie?”

He slid his hand up her throat, feeling her body tense instinctively, then relax, consciously. He admired the warm contrast of his own tanned, golden skin and rust-red freckles against the ivory paleness of her neck, his fingers tracing the faint, blue path of a vein down the side of her neck. “Do you trust me?” He leaned closer, following the path of the vein with his breath this time, using his grip in her hair to pull her head back, baring her throat to him.

Her voice was ragged and breathy as she answered, her breath catching in her throat as he grazed her skin with his teeth. “Yes, Charlie.” She sucked in a breath, shuddered and let it out on a soft moan as he nipped her, just under the ear. _“God....!”_

He grinned. Pulling her head forward, he pressed her face against his collarbone, whispering, “Hold on.” Waiting just long enough for her to blindly wrap her arms around him, he sent a cheeky grin in the direction of the shocked wizard whose progress they’d interrupted when they had exited the building, thoroughly enjoying the embarrassed -- and aroused -- expression on the older man’s face. He winked at the older wizard, then stepped forward, turned and --

***

Tonks gave a small, muffled squeal against Charlie’s chest as they landed, the rush of wind past them, combined with the unstable footing they had landed on giving her a terrifying sense of vertigo for a moment. She almost -- _almost_ \-- broke and looked. But then he tightened his arms around her and steadied her until she’d gotten her footing. As soon as she had her feet firmly planted, the vertigo went away and all she was aware of was the strength of his arms around her, the rich scent of his skin filling her lungs -- a combination of musk and cinnamon that was uniquely _Charlie_ in her mind -- and the rumble of his delighted chuckle filling her ears as he hugged her again, reassuringly.

“I’ve got you.” She loved his voice; she never could figure out how he managed to get the tones of it to rattle so pleasantly through her bones when he wanted to arouse her -- it never failed. One moment, they’d be having a perfectly normal, mundane conversation, the next, he’d turned on that rumble and she melted, mind and body.

He was rumbling at her now, his hands stroking familiarly over her back and shoulders. “Look at me, Tonks.”

Obediently, she lifted her head and looked at him. Charlie grinned at her. “Take off your clothes -- but keep your eyes on me.” He released her gently, and stepped back to begin stripping himself.

She kept her eyes on him. She had no idea where they were -- she caught glimpses behind his head of what appeared to be wide open moorlands, wide open sky, and little else, but did not look around, did not look away from his eyes. She could feel the wind rushing around them, past them, carrying the scent of salt water -- the smell of it made her heart stutter and skip a beat -- and could hear, faintly, the crash of waves onto a distant shore.

Finally, she stood naked and shivering. He stepped out of his trousers, pulling his wand out before tossing the clothing aside. In quick succession, he cast a perimeter alarm spell -- to warn them if anyone were to approach -- a contraception charm on himself, and set up a mild windshield, cutting the brisk, chilling wind around them down to a comfortable breeze, cooling them under the summer evening sun.

Charlie smiled at her, setting the wand carefully aside before approaching her again. “Close your eyes.” She obeyed, shivering in anticipation. His hands, so broad and warm, came up to cup her breasts, thumbs smoothing over hard nipples, sending small shocks of pleasure slicing through her. He grinned at the expression on her face, bending and lightly nipping at one erect bud of flesh, his mouth shockingly warm against the wind chilled skin.

She groaned, hands coming up instinctively to bury her fingers into his coppery hair and hold him to her. In response, he nipped her again, then sucked the whole nipple into his mouth, lathing it with his tongue, sucking hard, then biting down again, making her groan.

Smiling, he released the nipple, the cool breeze shocking after the heat of his mouth. He shifted, bending to bite sharply at the other nipple, pinching it painfully between his teeth and making her gasp and flinch, sending a surge of wetness flooding her nether curls and making her fight the urge to cringe back. Playfully, he increased the pressure until she cried out, using the erotic pain to distract her as his hand slipped down, along her ribs, caressing down her flank. He rewarded her cry by simultaneously releasing the abused nipple, and thrusting his fingers into the slick folds between her legs, unerringly finding the erect button of her clitoris and rubbing it, once, firmly, sending another shock of pleasure rocketing through her. Her knees trembled as she cried out again, fingers tightening in his hair.

He rubbed again, fingers sliding slickly against her as he bent and suckled softly at her aching breast. Gently, he parted the hot folds of flesh, driving his fingers deeper, more firmly against her, until she had to shift, parting her thighs in helpless encouragement. He smiled against her skin, sucking harder, then pulling back and nibbling his way up her breast to her collarbone. Pausing there, he nipped at the skin, pinching it gently, licking, sucking the salt sweat from her flesh as his fingers continued to stroke, sliding slowly, deliberately against her. She trembled under his touch, and he used his teeth to lightly scrape at her skin, following the thick tendon up the side of her neck with gentle bites, sucking the lobe of her ear into his mouth, biting it gently, then whispering into her ear... “Turn around. Keep your eyes closed.”

She trembled, shifted, then gasped and moaned softly as the motion brought his fingers against her again. His arms tightened around her, and she could hear the laugh in his voice as he repeated, more firmly, “Turn around. Keep your eyes closed.” His fingers pressed against her, staying firmly seated between the slick lips between her legs as he guided her around with the other hand.

Moving up behind her, he pressed his erect cock -- hot and hard and oh-so-soft to the touch -- between her buttocks, wrapping his left arm around her and cupping her right breast in his hand, fingers closing gently on the hard, swollen nipple. His right arm wrapped around her hip, the fingers of his right hand still buried in the curls between her legs, stroking her gently and making her gasp and jerk with each bolt of pleasure that sparked to his touch on her clit, the breath pouring out of her lungs in a rush at each touch, then having to be clawed and dragged back in only to pour back out again as her body spasmed in delight to his call. Rocking his hips forward into her, he stroked himself between her legs, hips canting up to push his cock against her flesh, letting her feel the cool slick of precum seeping from the head. His fingers pressed into her, stroking and teasing, caressing and lightly scratching at her clit, skillfully driving her desire higher, sending electric shocks of bliss slicing through her, while his arms held her tight, and warm, and secure against his body.

Pinching her nipple firmly, rolling it between his fingertips, he bent and nuzzled her hair aside, breath curling warmly, teasingly, against the side of her throat. She panted, both hands reaching up -- one to cover his hand on her breast, her fingers lightly grasping his wrist; the other to catch in his hair, helplessly pulling him into her as she tipped her head to the side, baring the long arch of her neck to him, feeling the heat of him all along her back. He gave in to the pull, setting his mouth against her skin, grazing the sensitive flesh at the join of shoulder and neck with his teeth as he pressed fingers deeper into the wetness between her legs, delighting at the sudden, fresh rush of fluids to slick his way into her body.

She gasped, hips rocking suddenly forward into his touch as he thrust two fingers into the tight, wet well of her body. His arms tightened in support when her knees trembled and shook as his fingers curled inside of her and pressed into the pad of tissue just behind her pubic bone, dragging a choked cry from her throat.

She tried to rock her hips into his hand again, wanting that delicious pressure deeper, but his arms tightened around her, holding her firm, holding her _still_. She fought him, then, pushing back into the hard pressure of his cock, canting her hips forward against his hand, opening her thighs to him in blatant invitation, feeling the hard fizz of impending orgasm bubbling inside of her, just out of reach.

“Charlie, _please!”_

She sobbed it, trying again to move against him as his fingers teased her nipple, tantalizing her with pleasure that did not satisfy, keeping her on the edge as he nibbled his way up to her ear. Softly, turning on the growl he knew she loved so much, he asked, again, “Do you trust me, Tonks?”

“Yes, Charlie, yes, _please_ , god, _Charlie…!”_ She pulled at his hair, trying to twist against him, eyes still tightly closed.

Charlie tightened his arms around her, holding her still again, then, deliberately, flicked his fingers against her, making her jerk and gasp as they stroked across the hard nub of her clit, pushing the small hood back and pressing directly on the sensitive head of it. She trembled, hips pressing forward into the touch, then whimpered as he stopped the stimulation. Pressing his lips to her ear, he whispered, “I know you may need to say ‘No’, love, even if you don’t really mean it -- so I’m not going to stop unless you tell me ‘The Muggles will see us.’” He nipped gently at her ear, strong teeth pinching tender flesh lovingly, then releasing the soft shell to nuzzle it with his nose. Dragging the tip of his tongue up the delicate curve, he whispered, “Do you understand?”

Tonks froze as he spoke, then nodded, hips helplessly rocking forward again, seeking his touch. “Yes.”

“Yes, what?” He nipped her ear again, hot breath teasing the sensitive skin, tickling the short, delicate hairs just behind. “Say it, now -- if you _really_ want me to stop, what are you to say?” His tongue seared a wet path down the side of her neck, just along the pale tracery of her jugular.

Gasping, shivering at the touch, she managed, “The M-muggles will s-see us...!”, then gasped again, exhaling on a whimpered moan as he rewarded her with another pinch of her nipple, and by thrusting his fingers into her body once more, curling them against her and stroking her clit with his thumb as he rocked his hips cheerfully against her.

He had a smile in his voice as he praised her, thumb still teasing her clit, lips brushing against her throat as he spoke, “Good girl....” Setting his teeth against her skin again, he shifted, bending her slightly in front of him, adjusting to press the head of his cock into the wetness seeping from her body, teasing her with the thick stiffness of it. Thrusting forward gently, he slid himself between the slick lips of her labia, thoroughly coating himself with her heat before he whispered, “Open your eyes.”

With a moan, she parted her legs, bending easily for him, pliant and willing under his touch, feeling her knees tremble as he pushed against her, teasing the entrance to her body but not entering. At his words, she hesitated, suddenly afraid...then gasped as he touched her again, her body flinching at the pleasure sparked. Dragging in a ragged breath, beginning to let it out in a moan, she opened her eyes -- and screamed, shoving backwards into him in a mad recoil as she looked out and down...and down... and _down_ over the cliff into the ocean. Then she gasped and cried out again as her recoil against him impaled her on his cock and the sudden filling of her body triggered the orgasm that had been lurking at the edge of her mind, sending her flesh into spasms of pleasure even as her mind attempted to retreat from the abyss in front of her. “Oh, god, _Charlie!”_

Charlie held her tightly, securely, as her body shook, caught between the two extremes -- terror and orgasm -- then slipped his fingers between her legs and rubbed, firmly tipping the balance toward pleasure as she jerked into a second orgasm, her body clenching around his cock, her eyes closing as her mind’s protest was firmly overwhelmed by the demands of her body. He smiled, and, with a rock and a thrust into her that made his breath catch, set up a hard, fast rhythm to bring on his own completion before she recovered. The heat pooled into his belly like burning honey, gathering and pouring out of him into her in long, jerking spurts, yanking a low groan out of him at the same time; his fingers clenched against her, pressing into sensitive flesh as his hips rhythm turned ragged and jerky. Her body clenched in response and she moaned again, feeling the third climax roll over her like a slow wave, dragging the adrenal terror and frantic arousal under and swamping her mind with sheer exhausted pleasure.

He caught her as she fell, cradling her against him, collapsing himself into the short grass of the pasture and just holding her, panting, as he waited for her to come back to him. Finally, she stirred, then gasped and clutched at him. He smiled and kissed her gently, turning her face toward the pastureland behind him. “Do you trust me, Tonks?”

She stared at him, then, finally, nodded, swallowing, half smiling as she said, “...that was incredible.”

He smiled, then nodded toward the cliff. “...Want to do it again?”

 

End


End file.
